


Would it Matter?

by holey_moley



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family Feels, Minor Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell, Minor Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 00:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13329780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holey_moley/pseuds/holey_moley
Summary: The little moments as Arya and Jon's family and friends (and Theon) discover there may be more to their relationship.Strong language and kissing.





	1. Bran

**Author's Note:**

> Had all these little snippets gathering dust in notebooks and finally decided to add to the Jon/Arya tag because really... they need more love.

Another year, and another boring Stark holiday party. She remembered when these used to be tolerable, back when she could still get away with sneaking peas down her sister’s jumper. Something told her Catelyn would not approve if she tried that now at the age of twenty-two.

 

She chortled to herself as she sipped her champagne and looked around the room for something to entertain herself with. She quickly found such a thing in the form of Jon’s arse. It should be illegal for him to wear such tight trousers.

 

“You know, you’re technically not supposed to fuck your cousin, even if it’s just the eyes.”

 

Arya had been caught staring at Jon. Maybe it was the champagne, or Bran’s frank observation, but she couldn’t be bothered to stop. In her defense, it _was_ a great view.

 

“Does it disgust you?” she asks with a challenge in her voice.

 

“No,” he says simply. She breaks her stare to look down into her younger brother’s eyes and considers her options.

“And if I was doing more than just eye-fucking him?“ she tests.

He smirks at her knowingly.  “No, I think it’s lovely.”

“Oh, didn’t know incest was so acceptable to you. Should I be concerned, or Sansa?” she jokes with mock concern. He just rolls his eyes at her. “I can’t imagine it being Robb, not really your type.”

 

“Arya,” he sighs, reigning the conversation back to topic. “I know you’ve been in love with him for ages. I’m happy for you both.”

 

She considers denying it, but again the champagne is clearly clouding her judgement. Her eyes focus back to Jon as he laughs at something Robb has said.

 

“You really think its lovely?”

“Yes, and impressive; it’s not easy keeping a secret like this for a year.” Her gaze snaps back to Bran.

“You sneaky little bastard. You knew?”

“Please, I see all, remember?”

“Freaky little bugger,” she murmurs, he just smiles and rolls away.

 

She turns her attention back to Jon and is met with near identical grey eyes staring back at her. Not breaking eye contact, she finishes her champagne in one gulp and smiles mischievously at him. Playing the dutiful daughter, she says goodbye to all the family and friends. Well, the ones that she can tolerate.

 

She saves Jon for last, clasping his elbow as she leans in to kiss his cheek in parting. “See you around, Jon,” she murmurs into his ear. With a wink at Bran, she leaves the party.

 

Jon doesn’t waste much time, catching up to her near her car and pulling her into the shadows.

“You look beautiful, you know,” he whispers as he kisses her.

“I know,” she smiles into the kiss. “Not so bad yourself.”

“Please, I know you were staring at my arse.” She chuckles.

“You and Bran.”

“What?” he asks, his forehead wrinkling in confusion.

“Bran. He knows.”

He pauses and leans back to look into her eyes. “And?”

“He’s happy for us.” He resumes his previous task, slowly making his way down her gracefully arched neck.

“The others? Would they be happy for us?”

Gently she pulls his head back by his hair and looks into his eyes again. “Would it matter?”

He kisses her gently on the lips.

“No. Let’s go home.”


	2. Theon

Chugging the rest of her beer, Arya forcefully slammed the empty glass down on the bar. The bartender Hot Pie only raised a brow at her before handing her another. She nodded her thanks and turned to survey what was sure to be one of the worst nights of her life.

 

Sansa had instead she attend Renly and Loras’ engagement party, an event that she assured Arya for weeks would be filled with free food and booze, plus enough friends where she wouldn’t feel out of place. Apparently what she meant by “enough friends” was “siblings and Theon,” hardly a winning combination for Arya. Luckily Hot Pie was bartending and, ever the gentleman, kept the drinks coming hard and fast.

 

“Miserable fucks, all of them.” She murmurs into her drink as Hot Pie grunts in agreement. “And they couldn’t be bothered to invite Gendry or Jon?”

 “They did. Well, Gendry at least. Too busy to come,” he replies. Arya turns back to him with a furrowed brow, she knew he was busy opening his own garage in London, but she had hoped he’d make an exception for his uncle’s engagement party. Stupid.

 

“Too busy burying his prick into his new girlfriend I imagine. The lucky bastard.” She sighed recognizing the voice that spoke. Theon took the seat next to her continuing, “And can you blame him with tits like those?”

“Still charming as ever,” she snapped at him as her blushing friend hurried to the other side of the bar where another patron waited. “Subtle too. How _do_ you keep the ladies away?”

“Ah, my little wolf, I don’t. Where my cock goes, ladies follow.” She imagines if she rolls her eyes any harder they would be permanently stuck up there.

“Fuck off Greyjoy, and sing your praises elsewhere. I’m in no mood for your shit.”

“Such a testy wolf; you always have been. Can’t take a joke, just like Jon. Where is that stupid bastard anyway?”

“He wasn’t invited,” she answers tersely. There never was much love lost between Jon and Theon, so with her admission she’s not surprised that he’s smiling at the slight.

“They didn’t invite Black Beauty?” Arya growls at the use of Jon’s childhood nickname; he hated being compared to that bloody horse, especially by Theon.

“Guess one bastard invite was enough for the happy couple. Gods, I imagine he’s home crying about how no one loves him…”

“Theon,” she warns him, eyes narrowing in hatred. “Shut the fuck up.”

“…probably using his tears as lube. Nah, he probably can’t even wank it anymore, all that time with just a hand…” but he didn’t finish. Arya could feel the cartilage and bone of his nose breaking under the heel of her hand.

“ _Fuck_ , Arya!” he yelps, clutching the offended appendage. “What the _hell_ was that for?”

“Don’t you ever speak about Jon that way again!” Theon looked up from the bloody messy in his hand to look at her. “You’re crazy, you bitch!”

“I fucking warned you Theon. Maybe you’ll learn.”

For as long as he had known her, always teasing her and picking on her, she had never struck him before. She could verbally bash as well as any of the guys, and curse like a sailor, but to his knowledge the only person she’d ever gotten violent against was that prick Joffrery. Surely he wasn’t as bad as that insufferable prick.

Theon truly looked at her, taking in her flaming pink cheeks, her still shaking fists with fury. And her eyes, he’d seen that look before. Never on Arya, but other women who’d thought he had better intentions involving them.

She was clearly in love. He smirked. So, little Arya was in love with Jon? She noticed his smug expression and the hatred returned to her eyes.

“What? Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“You love him.” She scoffs at his statement.

“Are you daft? ‘Course I do, he’s family.”

“No, no. You _LOVE_ him.” His grin widens when she doesn’t reply.

“Holy shit, you do love him. Should have guessed, no one else could tame a cunt like you-“

She aims for his eye this time.

 

* * *

 

Her presence in his apartment is announced with the slamming of the front door. He looks up from his work as she throws her keys on the counter and starts rummaging for ice.

“Greyjoy knows,” she bites off. He gently takes the ice in her hand and wraps it into a towel, applying it to her left hand.

“Nose or eye?”

“Both.”


	3. Ned, Part One

Arya walked into her father’s study, her offering of dirty wildflowers clutched in her hand. She was a bit nervous- the last time he had called her into his study like this was when she had kicked Joffrey in the nuts all those years ago. He had admonished her for her actions while her mother was in the room, doling out a punishment fitting the crime, but as soon as her mother left he couldn’t help his smiling praise of her sticking up for others. “You’re a true Stark, through and through.”  
Now though, she wasn’t sure as to what to expect. She wasn’t a kid anymore, but the weight of not disappointing him weighed heavy on her shoulders.

He spared her a glance as she entered.

  
“Ah, there’s my favourite wildling.” She smiled at the compliment.

  
“I brought you some flowers,” she replied thrusting them out to him. He smiled at the gift and stood to put them in the vase he always kept for such occasions- a hideous blue-gray monstrosity with what was supposed to be a direwolf on it. She had made it back in primary school and he’d kept it along with a painted rock he used as a paperweight. She jumped onto his desk and impatiently swung her legs.

“So, what’s this about old man? What couldn’t possibly wait until supper tonight?”

“Wanted to get this conversation out of the way without the rest of the family breathing down our necks.”

“Alright, you’ve piqued my interest; what is it Da?”

“How’s the new apartment?” She shrugs nonchalantly, not quite sure where this was going. “Fine, it’s small but serves its purpose.”

“Spend a lot of time there?” Another shrug.

“As much as I spent here I suppose.”

“More time at Jon’s then?” Her feet froze.

“Pardon?”

“Arya.” Glaciers clash as they stare each other down.

“How long have you been dating Jon? I know you’ve been in love with him since you were eight, but with Gendry I thought you had moved on.” She rolls her eyes at the mention of her best mate.

“Nothing happened with Gendry, Da.”

“Hmm. So, Jon then? What’s going on there. And don’t bother denying it. You may be a bit better at hiding it, but he’s not. “

“…A year and a half?”

“That long, eh?” She couldn’t help but ask, his approval too important to her now that it was out in the open.

“Are you disappointed?” A sad smile is his response, and it pains her heart.

“No pup, I’m not disappointed. Jon is a good man, but I worry. I know we all like to think that other people’s opinions don’t matter, but dating your cousin will cause quite the stir.” She shakes her head in agreement, knowing this to be the exact reason why they hadn’t been open about them.

“I know, honestly I’m most worried about Mother.”

“Let me worry about her. Does anyone else know?”

“Err, no?” He raises an eyebrow at her question. “Okay, so Bran and Theon, but that’s it.”  
He chuckled at that.

“Theon? There must be a story there.”

“He caught on after I punched him for insulting Jon.” Her father guffawed at that, then meeting her smile with his own asked her favourite question:

“Nose or eye?”

“Both.”


End file.
